To Love a Maker (Or Several)
by TheTribeanal
Summary: A world-weary Planeptunian guard and his fresh-faced rookie pal are pulled into an adventure far above their pay-grade. Can the old guard learn to love again? Can his junior keep the man from killing them both with his attitude? Why are the naughty parts not in every chapter? Rated M for eventual smut.
1. The Opening One

His name is Planeptune Guard 1. It's nothing flashy, nothing like being named after the nation itself like his lady or, gasp, _having a last name_. But then again, that's what you get when you're born into the 'NPC' caste.

His job is to stand outside the door to the Basilicom and, well, guard it. Whether it be man or mer, rain or shine, he and his trusty second in command will put their lives on the line for the glory of Lady Purple Heart and the hearts of the people.

"God _damn_ it, not another Gordan! I'm up to 16% pity rate, give me the ten star already!"

Well, at least that's what those eggheads in PR like to tell the public. It works, at least, since nobody seems to care about an illustrious Basilicom guard furiously tapping away on his phone.

Guard 2 groaned, wiping a gloved hand over his face as he leaned on his spear. Unlike his senior, he was a fresh face who had landed the post yesterday, a bold young lamb thrust into the world of lions. "Maybe you need to stop playing games during work, then. All you ever do is complain about those Wryyy and Virizon guys so - _the boss is coming act natural!_ "

Guard 1 let a wry grin slip onto his face under his helmet. This kid's mind wasn't going to last a week.

Straightening his posture up, Guard 2 gripped his weapon with grim resolve. He was fearless (not really), he was strong (compared to those desk jockeys indoors), and nothing was going to stand in his way (bar a rather unfortunate cutscene).

"Meh. Not like they care, anyway," Guard 1 muttered, tapping away on his phone like nobody's business.

"W-What?"

"Watch and learn, rookie."

About to respond, Guard 2 opted to let out a dismaying combination of a wheeze and a choke instead upon seeing the all-star party approaching the Basilicom. His lady, her fellow CPUs, the brave Makers that had accompanied them to fight the dreaded Arfoire...

...walking right past them and through the doors. It took a minute or two for the veritable crowd of Makers to file in, but in they went, contentedly chatting among themselves without a care in the world, much less for door guards.

"...Huh?"

Clapping his junior's shoulder, Guard 1 grinned broadly. "Get how this world works now, rookie?"

"I-I don't-"

"We're gags. Our lives are set-ups for jokes about our own inadequacy. Why do you think this slot is always open? Because you're the _chosen one_ and the seat was just waiting here for you?" He chuckled, but the lack of warmth made Guard 2 shudder. "Look, kiddo, I don't want to crush your dreams. You probably worked long and hard, trained your body to the limit to fight for Planeptune, but we will **_never_** be on their level. We're fodder, and we exist to make them look good while the 'death by horrible monster' is swept under the rug."

Staring hard at the ground, the junior guard threw the hand on his shoulder off and pulled his gaze up at his friend (was he?) in the eyes (why couldn't he see them?).

"A-Aren't you going about this a little too...much? They just didn't bother to greet us, no problem. Anyway, i-isn't it obvious that they surpass us? They're heroes! But to say that the guard is some...some sort of comedy troupe...you're wrong! They do care about us!"

"...I'm going to continue the story. So it's two years ago during the Rebirth incident, yeah? I was young like you, I trained in the sword for 15 years along with my best friend, who specialized in all kinds of firearms. You name it, he'd tried it. I thought we'd be starin' down the gates of hell, a bunch of scared civvies behind us, and telling them 'it's going to be alright, because the guard is here'. Then I'd roll up my sleeves and get ready to whoop it's ass while I get cover fire from the best damn rifleman I'd ever seen. Goddess above, I remember when ol' Tooie was here, we'd talk all the time about Team Attacks..."

Guard 1 sighed, shaking his head to get back on track. "The first monster we faced was a Fenrisulfr that somehow made it's way outta the depths of Termina Forest. The people screamed and ran away while I drew my blade and caught it's attention. I struck. And I couldn't even scratch it. I remember, remember what I thought when it slammed me in the ribs and pinned me down, breathing in that nice smell of ash."

Guard 2 looked away, pale.

"As I was staring down those 'gates of hell' I talked about, the only thing that came was 'Why am I weak? Am I going to die here? **Did I kill my best friend?** '"

Guard 1 grinned bitterly. "The answer was no, at least to the second one. A basic Rush combo and the beast was slain, by a Maker no less. Then they looked at me like I wasn't even on their radar and left, babbling about how the giant fire wolf ready to eat someone _was kinda weird_ , running off to do goddess knows what goddess knows where. They left me, man. They left me in a pile of my buddy's ashes to limp to the hospital alone. Some hero's story, am I right or am I right?"

He finally stepped back, leaving the rookie to lean against the wall and let out a long, stressed breath.

"If we're talking literal here, then yeah. They're heroes. They love the people, kiss babies, all that stuff. But lemme tell you something."

Getting off the wall, Guard 1 sauntered towards the door before turning around again with a lazy smile.

"I'm going to raid the PR department's fridge again and I _know_ those little rats keep bottles of Leanbox-style mead in the back. You want me to grab you one? You know, since I basically ruined your entire day with my edgy backstory that probably doesn't belong in this world that has little girl heroes and raccoon dog jello, but hey," the man shrugged. "Exposition is one hell of a drug."

Guard 2 blinked slowly. What the hell was this change in atmosphere? "Er...n-no, I don't drink. Never, uh, never a good idea on the job. Are you...alright?"

The senior guard shrugged. He never saw the flash of purple that disappeared from the doorframe.

* * *

 **A/N:** You may be asking me: "Why did you delete the old story with 80k views, you arrogant blowhard? Didn't you promise to overhaul the entire naughty sex story with the actual thing, you absolute mong?"

Then again, there'd actually need to be people checking this trash out from the old story to ask. Kek.

I'll put it bluntly: looking at the old story made me cringe hard. It was poorly written, poorly paced, and felt like a set of one-shots that a horny teenager would write for gratification with a plot almost hastily slapped together to make sure it wasn't just text porn. This is a bit of an exaggeration, but the fact that I wrote such a travesty haunted me, though let me make it clear that I **deeply appreciate my old fans.** Seriously, how you guys liked my perverted dribble is beyond me, and the fact that you were genuinely excited towards my desire to change was nothing short of heartwarming. But the more I looked at it, the more obvious it became that this was a lost cause, and it was all my fauly.

It took me way too long to realize that forcing myself to write a subject like this in a manner I didn't personally believe in sucked. Sure, it's a fantasy world, and the reasoning behind why they bone can literally be nonexistent because...well...who cares about porn with plot?

Me, after I thought about it for a while. And it showed towards the later chapters, especially with the Generals and the Oracles. No bones about it, **I just didn't want to write lazy smut.** I could, I think I still can and it probably will be better than ever, but I want to write a story where the NPC _works_ , or at least does _something_ impactful for the M-rated reward.

He doesn't just get it because he's David Takawhatever, Gary Stu extraordinaire who gets it because that's his thing. He gets it because he did this thing, someone liked it, and now they get dirty.

Many will see me tying the old story down in a house fire as an act of cowardice, and I wouldn't even say you're wrong. I am completely in the wrong for promising you guys something, not seeing it through, and proverbially washing my hands of the situation like a tool. But I needed a fresh start, and hell, you can't get fresher than a new story. I probably missed out on addressing some issues, so please R/R and tell me what you think and I'll address it next chapter. Or slow roast me like a nice ham, haven't eaten all day.

If you have no idea what the hell I'm on about and/or you're that one anon who told me to 'delete this right now', hey there. You're going to have to wait for the smut, sorry for the blocks of text/ Congratulations, you actually predicted the thing I was gonna do. R/R if you liked the opening chapter, I guess?

-Bean


	2. Beer Run

"I cannot believe I went along with this. I cannot believe you turned around, begged me to do this and I said 'yes'."

Rolling his eyes, Guard 1 weaved in-between the office workers with practice ease as he made a beeline to the PR department. Contrary to their lady's behavior, Planeptune's Basilicom was a place that buzzed ("Bee puns, geddit?" "Please stop.") with the desire to work, quiet conversation filling the air to the backdrop of shuffling papers and clacking keyboards. There was a silent rule, however, that crying was not allowed.

Not after the Great Flop of '06.

"I did not beg."

"You were close to tears after I firmly told you 'no' the third time."

"Most of those were fake, I'll admit."

Guard 2 stared incredulously at his senior, who shot him a wry grin in response as they rounded a corner. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I truly am starting to _loathe_ you."

Shushing his junior, Guard 1 pressed up to the wall. The kid was gonna learn the master's touch. "We're close. If I still know the protocol of this place, right around now _she_ should be coming."

"And who is this 'she' I should...should..."

Guard 2's jaw dropped. The girl in question was Neptune, diminutive goddess of Planeptune and legendary slacker. The latter was almost universally swept under the rug by how many times she had to go out and save Gamindustri from the forces of darkness, however, so Neptune was fortunate enough to have a nearly peerless image of Planeptune's savior, the one girl with enough power to unite the four landmasses and bring about everlasting peace.

That made the weekly occurring event all the more unbelievable.

"M-M-MY LA-" A hand clamped over his mouth. Guard 1 stared him down with fire that an Ancient Dragon would blush at, motioning to simply watch. The two peeked from the corner to see Neptune making a quick glance around, nodding to herself once she was certain no one important was around. With a stretch, Planeptune's goddess kicked the ornate door open and jumped onto a desk, ignoring the combination of resigned yet horrified stares from the various workers inside.

"Dudes and dudettes, are you ready to hear my latest pitches?!"

"M-My goddess, you must understand why we most certainly aren't!" a brave man exclaimed, his co-workers silently praying for his departure from this mortal coil. "There is absolutely _no_ way anyone would pay for a pudding raising simulator. W-We can't just tell the public that we're halting production on Virtu-Nep to use our labs exclusively for the development of 'sixth-dimensional jigglebones'!"

"What the fuck is a 'sixth-dimensional jigglebone'?" someone whispered, earning a nervous shrug from the adjacent woman.

"Quitter talk! Blasphemy! It can totes be done, I've sat in the lab and watched game magic happen, folks!"

"If memory serves right, My Grace," a nasally, chubby man spoke up. "The coding teams told us you fell asleep about ten minutes into the coding process. They had to take turns carrying you on piggyback because it was the only thing keeping you from sleep walking and typing gibberish into any keyboard you got near."

"Erk!"

"Granted, it was fairly impressive that you managed to code an entire gardening simulator in your sleep. In a fighting game, as the new game plus."

"O-Okay! Alright! I get it!" Neptune flailed her arms, cheeks pink as she remembered the raucous praise she got from the press for being 'a saucy trendsetter'. "But, like, uh...pleeeease?"

"You really think we haven't learned from the first three times that worked?"

"...Pleeeeeeeeeeease?" Neptune fluttered her eyelashes. While it wasn't too seductive due to her petite frame, the cute appeal caused all of the room's occupants to look away nervously.

A man in the back row looked away, sweat pooling on his forehead. "M-Must...stay strong...hnnng!"

"Yeah, Maurice, don't give in! For the entire department, believe in the me who believes in you!"

"I-I...wait, who are you again? And hold on, my name is _Maurice_?"

Neptune blinked in response to the various shrugs and head scratches circulating around. "Dunno? Not tryin' to be _that_ girl, but the text box really isn't- I mean of course it is! C'mon, Maury, can't you do _anything_ for little ol' me?"

"Uh...well..."

As the room broke into opposing arguments and encouragements, Guard 1 rolled his eyes and stifled a yawn as he slunk into the room, Guard 2 sticking to his heels. Walking quietly past the slide presentation Neptune had set up to illustrate her pitch to an unassuming fridge in the corner of the room, the senior guard quickly slipped around and opened a second set of doors.

Looking inside, Guard 2 nearly gasped at the cornucopia of alcohol that laid inside. By the four Goddesses, there was a big enough selection to make even a seasoned connoisseur faint!

"Oi, rookie, grab as many as you can and stash 'em in your inventory," Guard 1 whispered, grasping three bottles of authentic Leanboxian mead in one handful and stuffing them into a disk on his hip. His companion, finding no other way out of this situation that would result in mercy, sighed and began to carefully place as few as he could in his disk as well.

The disk system was pioneered long ago by an old hero named Segata. Allowing for item storage, equipment management on the fly, a comprehensive stat screen and several auxiliary features, it was no wonder that Segata was credited with revolutionizing the adventuring scene and thrusting Planeptune into the forefront of technological innovation.

Of course, nobody said you _couldn't_ use it to hold an ungodly amount of alcohol, but manners and all that.

"How many we got?" Guard 1 muttered, counting his own and making a quick glance at Guard 2's inventory screen. "Twenty-four in total, nice. Let's get outta here before they start throwing things."

"T-Throwing things? Like...like what?"

"Shade. There's a burn ward on this floor for a reason. Now hold on, here's the good part."

Guard 2 stared at his acquaintance with dread. "The good part?"

"I gotta take a piss, wait for me here."

"I hate you so mu-"

* * *

Guard 2 sent a withering glare towards the other guard as they made their way out of the department. Closing the door behind him gently, Guard 1 let out a sigh of relief and began to stride towards the double-doors to the outside. Pushing them open and holding it for his accomplice, the guards resumed their positions.

"Another heist successfully pulled off. You could call this a real payday for two, huh?"

"It would do you well to remember that I didn't want to actually do this in the first place," Guard 2 sighed. "I want you to stand there and guard the door with me all day, okay? No more distractions, no more Flame Insignia: Champions, nothing."

"Fine, mom I probably don't have. Lecture me when I care, or when I get my _fucking ten-star hero-_ "

A small cough from behind the two caused them to freeze. "Would you care if I lectured you instead, guard?"

Histoire, the Tome of the World and Planeptune's Oracle, sized up the two larger men with an unamused glare. Guard 2 made a strange noise crossed between a wheeze and a death rattle while Guard 1 simply smiled and waved.

"Nice 'a the lady to invite us to the lecture hall, eh rookie?"

Guard 2 sputtered out a response, garbled in an alien language that came with hero worship. Histoire is credited as the mind behind Planeptune's success, the progenitor of the goddesses and a major player in beating back Arfoire during the Rebirth incident, and nobody from the landmasses so much as approached her without thanking her for her service since time immemorial. To put it simply, they were in the presence of a living legend, spoken of in whispers.

And she looked mightily pissed at the two of them. The one of them? He didn't know and frankly didn't want to find out.

"Goofing off again, I assume? Goodness, can I not hope one day that you will take your job seriously again?"

"Nope. You know what happened during the Rebirth incident."

"I understand if you are upset about how close you got to death's door, however we all have roles we must must-"

"Bold of you to assume I fear death. Even bolder still, to sit on your little book and gab to me on what _roles_ we need to be fulfilling when your little heroes did _nothing_ to save Tooie."

Histoire and Guard 1 stared each other down, their respective faces locked in a tense stare and a half-lidded sneer. Guard 2, having paled to the point where a Loweean would be concerned, stood ramrod straight and stared at the wall past them. After a minute, Histoire seemed to have pieced something together, staring at the taller man with a curious glint in her eyes.

"You...gave him a name? And, were those references to something beyond this world, even?"

"What does it matter?" Guard 1 shrugged. "I just feel like sayin' em, so I do. Also, noticed you didn't even bother addressing the whole 'guard died' thing. Fuck you for that, by the by."

For some reason, Guard 1 could feel the tension in the hall dissipate as Histoire took on a different stance. She seemed to be looking through him, for lack of better terms, and it made him feel odd.

"You never told me this before, I...was aware of your anomalous behavior, but this is unprecedented. Perhaps..."

Making up her mind, Histoire floated up to eye level with Guard 1, who mustered up the energy to shoot a single eyebrow up. "Come with me to my office, please. We have much to discuss."

"And why in any New Game+ should I be doing that?"

The fairy's eyes narrowed. "Your job may hinge on your cooperation, guard."

"I don't give a fuck about my job and where it could potentially be going, _your majesty._ "

The tension in the air was palpable. Histoire was a patient woman, Goddesses above did she have patience in spades, but disrespect and ambivalence did wonders to erode one's kindness. She didn't mean to condescend, of course, but for this one guard to consistently insult her passion about every other sentence?

How vexing.

"I-I think we should grab a cup of, uh, coffee! Yeah, um, well...ah, you know, talk about our issues..." Guard 2 sputtered, cutting through the silence like a socially awkward knife. "Like adults...?"

"No thanks, buttercup," Guard 1 grit out, digging into his inventory and pulling out a bottle of Leanbox mead. Facing Histoire, he popped the cap with his lower canine and spit the cap at her feet, taking a swig. "I got my beer, I got my sword, and if I'm lucky I don't got my job in the next ten minutes. I'm all peachy fuckin' keen _._ "

Guard 2 slowly died on the inside, hazarding a look at Histoire. She did not have the ashen look he expected her to have, nor even one of any rage at all.

She looked calm. Like she was planning something.

"Relinquish a bottle to me."

Guard 1 stood still, the slight tilt in his head acting as though he was glancing at her from the shadows of his helmet. Guard 2, thoroughly done with this shit, buried his face in his hands.

"If you will not move, then I shall not move either. Your attitude will not scare me away, for I have and always will face threats with much more impact than you."

Guard 1 stared ahead, immersing himself in the clean air, the bright blue sky, and the birdsong that filled his ears. It was a beautiful day today, a lot of them probably were. He never noticed, for some reason.

Nah, that was just dramatic for no fuckin' reason. He knew why every day was one big grey mess, and one of the reasons was asking him for his hard-fought mead.

"Go fuck yourself," he stated nonchalantly as he plucked another bottle from his inventory, passing it over to Histoire's small hands.

"I assure you," she muttered, flicking the cap off and catching it with almost practiced ease before taking a sip. Guard 2's jaw dropped at the undignified act while Guard 1 couldn't help himself and snorted.

"If I had the time, I would most assuredly appreciate the stress relief. What is it you say during these moments, 'cheers'?"

* * *

 **A/N:** I always feel that underneath her prim and proper mask, Histoire is this really chill old lady who's cooler than your cool friend. Oh, did he fight that bully off when he was only five? That's cute, she hunted rats to put food on the table when _she_ was a kid, and that was to provide for her little brother.

Anyway, didn't see this coming did you? Thought it was proper dead? Wouldn't blame you. Don't nearly have enough time nowadays, but I'm still kicking, unfortunately. **I still can't set up a schedule, sadly** , but this chapter has been in development for FAR longer than it should have, and there was a certain PM I got that inspired me to finish this. I wonder who else was waiting for this? It gets you thinking, just a little.

EDIT: Immediately I noticed a small typo and corrected it, 'was' instead of 'as'. It's kind of annoying how you notice these things in post, huh?


End file.
